Mind the Gap
by The SleepWalker
Summary: The Sandman/DW x-over, S1/S2 only. Ten has been drifting about the universe, trying to deal with the loss of Rose, while Rose is protecting Earth in Pete's dimension. Neither of them know is that their lives are about to change forever. Again.
1. Shadow

Mind the Gap

Rose felt like she was growing up. The pain of being away from the Doctor had not gone away, in fact, sometimes it was worse than ever, but she'd learned to hide it better. She had Mickey and Mum and Dad and the baby to think about and, not wanting them to worry over something that could never be fixed, she tried her best to be cheerful.

Something that could never be fixed. Given everything she'd seen the Doctor do, it was hard to believe, but as he'd said, travel between dimensions was supposed to be impossible, and for all intents and purposes, it was. She knew, she'd looked.

At twenty-five, her position at the Torchwood Institute was impressive, built on the experience she'd gained from her time with the good Doctor. The head of investigation and analysis, she had enough money and clout to do a bit of investigation on her own. It seemed that there was no sign of a Doctor in her new dimension. There was no mention of him in his usual places in history, no mentions of him anywhere. And "Bad Wolf" had finally left her. Not since Bad Wolf Bay had those words coincided.

Every year, she took a vacation to Norway, to sit on the beach and look out at the ocean. It was unbelievable how lonely she could get. Mickey'd gotten married a few years ago, was expecting a second kid in a few months. She had dinner with her parents and sometimes she babysat her little brother Egan, but still, it wasn't like being with the Doctor. Even with all the weird happenings that came with working for Torchwood, life was tame, boring.

When she returned from her sixth yearly constitutional, Rose found a new case file on her desk. The usual alien invaders, thinly hidden amongst the people of Earth. A race she'd never heard of before, but thankfully, there had been nothing like the Daleks or the Cybermen since the Doctor had banished them to the depths of the rift.

_But there are still some pretty nasty things out there..._ she thought to herself as she stalked the alien threat. She'd followed it to a warehouse, a deserted, shady place that made her nervous. Huge crates, tons of places for it to hide. There was no knowing where it could be, possibly right behind her. And then she felt it, the hot, stinking breath, on the back of her neck. She turned around just in time to watch it spring out of the darkness at her.

* * *

"ROSE!" The Doctor awoke in a cold sweat and sat up. He put his head in his hands, trying to slow his heart beats. He'd been having so many dreams about Rose recently. It wasn't terribly surprising, he thought about her enough. More than he probably should. Impossible as it seemed, best was to put her behind him; there was no reaching her now, just trying could be catastrophic. Contemplating the distance, knowing the impossibility of being with her had broken his hearts, but thoughts of her would not leave his mind. The whole thing made him wonder. He'd been around long enough to know trouble when he saw it and his dreams were beginning to seem like trouble.

He got up, got dressed, thinking, always thinking.

"it's been years. It's been years and I haven't stopped thinking of her," he said, not sure whether he was talking more to the TARDIS or to himself, "I don't think it's ever been quite this bad..."

"Aw. You loved her."

"What?" he looked around. There was no way he could be anything but alone.

"You _loved_ her." There was a woman, standing by the controls of the TARDIS, skinny, pale, dressed in black. She wore and aunk necklace and had crazy black hair.

"How did you get here? There's no way you should be here. It's impossible."

"Nothing's completely impossible," she smirked, "_you_ of all people should know that."

There was a prickling on the back of the Doctor's neck. He knew this woman, but he also knew he'd never seen her before in his life. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am, Doctor; I was there in the beginning, I'll be there in the end, even for _you_."

"Death. Are you saying you're _the_ Death? The Alpha and the Omega and all that lot?" Death nodded, "You look more like a grunge rocker..."

"Thank you."

"You're not here to, you know, reap me... right?" he said, not looking nearly as nervous as most people when they asked that sort of question, "'Cause last I checked, I have at least another few thousand years to go before..."

Death shook her head. "No, I'm not here to collect, I'm here to help you."

"Help me how?"

"Rose is dying."

"Dying? What you mean, dying? How can she be dying?"

"She needs your help. She's in my brother's realm for the moment and she's strong, but she won't last forever." Death smiled sadly, "she's been asking for you. She doesn't ever stop thinking of you."

The Doctor looked as though he was going to be sick. "I can't reach her. I can't. To try would mean ripping open the universe."

Death smiled in a way that was not only knowing, but ancient. "It doesn't _have_ to."

* * *

After quite a few bananas, three cups of chamomile tea and a glass of hot milk, not to mention several hours of counting many, many sheep, the Doctor finally began to drift off. He wondered if it had ever taken him this long to get to sleep before it actually mattered.

* * *

A familiar face. A familiar voice. And then nothing.

* * *

Light...

Watery light...

Watery--Water! The Doctor was suddenly horribly aware that he was twenty or thirty feet underwater, looking up at the sky. Trying not to panic, he began to make his way up. There was something strange about the water; it wasn't blue. It was purple. The light filtered all the way from the surface to the mountainous bottom, illuminating an endless landscape, dotted with coral reefs, sunken pirate ships and what seemed to be sparkling under-water hamlets for as far as the eye could see.

He broke the surface and found he was a mile or so from shore. For a while, he just floated there in what must have been a sea. The sun was warm and though he had a long swim ahead of him, he couldn't help but notice that he was rather content. Felt like he was on vacation. It'd been a long time since he'd had proper vacation. The breeze that skittered over the water carried with it the warmth of a carefree, boyish summer. The mainland floated ahead of him, beckoning, filled with promise of new discoveries, new adventures. It was seemingly overly abundant with what looked like forests, jungles, snow-topped mountains, cities and a desert or two, a Neverland, tightly packed to avoid the annoying down-time that came between more exciting engagements.

It took the Doctor some time to get to the white sand beach, but he didn't mind. He sat in the sand and looked out at the purple ocean. It reminded him of something. Something distant and wonderful... Suddenly, the once tepid sea grew choppier and choppier, the sky darker, until a great wave swelled and began rolling inland. Ten, twenty, forty, sixty feet it loomed, casting a humongous shadow over the beach. But, as it towered, the ocean, the entire ocean, flash-froze, leaving the wave hanging motionless above him. Slowly, the sun returned, shining through the ice, casting purple light over the arctic shore. "See that, Rose?" said the Doctor, smiling, "Isn't it beautiful?"

He turned to see Rose's reaction, but she wasn't there. And at that point, the ocean might as well not have existed; his mind had wandered from it completely and was wondering what had become of her.

Perhaps she'd gone to see her mum?

* * *

The flat was empty. Empty, dark and forgotten. It was the night after the incident at Canary Warf. The Doctor wandered through the bleak half-light, touching a door frame, or one of the little tacky things Jackie collected. Everything was as neat as was to be expected, there was no sign of the pain or panic that had occurred. It was just as it had been before everything'd gone wrong, frozen in the brief, odd time before the world had come back to its senses, declared the Tyler family dead and moved on. He knew Rose wasn't there. She'd never be there again.

The Doctor walked into Rose's room and sat down on her bed. He had to find her, but where? The fluffy pink bedspread gave him no ideas. He sighed in frustration. Why was he here if he knew she wasn't? Because it was a start and a start was better than nothing. He laid back and began to think. The bedspread, the pillow cases, smelled like her. How long had it been since he'd forgotten what she'd smelled like? He'd put her things away long ago, stored them in a bin, the bin in a dark closet. They smelled of nothing but moth-balls and other dark closet smells now...

That's when he heard it. It was faint. A breathing. The Doctor, sonic screwdriver in hand, leaned over the side of the bed and slowly looked underneath. There, sitting in the dark, was a tiny, golden-orangey, _thing_. It was so small and seemed harmless. It looked up at him with little beady black eyes, almost like a bug's "Well, hullo there," said the Doctor, moving down to the floor, "who are you then?"

"Urkle." The little thing wobbled on its tiny legs, its head seemed too big for its body.

"Is that so?" he said, putting the screwdriver back in his pocket, "and where did you come from?"

"Urkle."

The Doctor nodded. "Well, seeing as how you know your way around, maybe you can lend me a hand. See, I'm looking for a friend of mine, might of seen her? About so tall, blond hair, a knack for getting herself into trouble...?"

The little gargoyle approached cheerfully, "Urkle!"

"Right," said the Doctor, helping the little thing into his coat pocket, "Off we go then."


	2. Puer Aeternus

It was Christmas Eve. The tree was sparkly and tinsely like Mum liked. The presents were wrapped and everyone was smiling. Outside it was just getting dark and it had been snowing all day. London looked just like a idyllic Christmas card. Dad had made his gross, healthy-drink eggnog and they were pretending they liked it. It tasted of seaweed, rose hips and of course, egg...

Mickey would be up in a bit and her mum would complain of him hanging around like it always was. Rose felt quite at ease, the only worry on her mind was perhaps Mickey wouldn't like the scarf she'd bought him half as much as she'd originally thought. As always, there was a loneliness at the edge of her mind; she couldn't help but remember the first Christmas she'd spent with the Doctor. Aliens, world in peril, and the first time he'd agreed to a proper sit-down with her mum. Pete looked over at her, concerned at the look of yearning on her face, "What's the matter, Rose?"

She sighed in spite of herself, "Just miss the Doctor a bit is all..."

"Who?" Jackie asked lightly, obviously busy tuning in a Christmas special on TV.

"The Doctor."

Pete looked back at her, "What doctor?"

This was wrong. "The Doctor. Skinny bloke, big hair, teeth, blue box that travels through space and time?"

"What are you talking about?" Her mum frowned, "Has the nog gone to your head?"

"Can't have," chuckled Pete, "it's not _that_ strong..."

"You must be joking!" Exclaimed Rose, getting up, "You don't know the Doctor? Mum, you hated him! And he's the whole reason we've got Dad!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart."

"Something is really wrong here..." said, Rose, reeling. That was when she realized something didn't make sense; "Dad, you shouldn't be here."

"What?" Pete was no longer chuckling.

"Dad, you were dead before the Doctor. You never lived in the flat with us."

"Tha's just not funny," The tone of Jackie's voice told her daughter that she'd had quite enough.

"I know!" Rose exclaimed, "I don't think it's funny either, but none of this makes any sorta sense! We never had a Christmas with Dad in the flat, always at his house. And where's Egan?!"

"You're talking like a crazy person," said Pete, obviously beyond fed-up, "Who is Egan?"

Their daughter was close to tears. "My baby brother!"

She had to leave. Something was terribly wrong. She needed to find the Doctor, he'd know what was happening. Without saying anything, Rose left. As soon as her foot fell beyond the door frame, everything was gone.

* * *

Once again, the Doctor found himself in a place he only remembered vaguely. It was as though he'd been there before, but was not meant to know. There were fairly dank, victorian-looking houses on a hill with a graveyard, one was squat, the the other tall and thin, both their sets of windows staring down at him. "Lovely. You think we might be able to have a cuppa?" he asked his pocket.

"Urkle."

"Houses of secrets and mysteries? Sounds like our cuppa tea alright."

The tiny gargoyle voiced it's opinion on that subject as he made his way up the path toward one of the houses. "If you feel that strongly," said the Doctor, tapping politely on the door, "might want to stay out here. Can't be all that bad."

A pudgey, short little man with a sheepish look on his face came to the door. "Cuh-can I, uh, heh-help you?"

"Hullo!" exclaimed the Doctor cheerfully, "I'm the Doctor! My associate," he motioned to the gargoyle in his pocket, "and I were wondering if we might come in and ask some questions?"

A little, bashful, grin played across the man's face. "The Duh-Doctor? Cuh-come in, uh, guh-good Duh-Doctor." He opened the door a bit wider to let the Doctor inside. "Muh-my bruh-brother will, uh, be by shortly fuh-for, uh, tuh-tea."

The Doctor nodded his approval, "Tha's lovely; tea with family," he looked around the parlour where the tea had been set. The inside of the house was just as antique and creepy as the outside. Odd pictures of odd people hung on the walls, stuffed creatures that had never existed haunted every corner. "We won't keep you long then..."

The gargoyle climbed out of the Doctor's pocket and fluttered to the short man's shoulder. "Urkle!" It chirped.

"Oh, he's yours then, Mr., uh...?"

The little man nodded, "Abel," he said, "Juh-just, uh, Abel."

The Doctor nodded as well, testing the name out, "Abel... That's familiar..." There was a knocking at the door. "Hullo, that must be your brother now." Abel hesitated, so the Doctor moved toward the door helpfully, "get it, shall I?"

The man who'd been knocking was tall, wild and angry-looking. Instead of politely waiting to be invited in, he looked over the Doctor's head and demanded, "Who is this?"

His rudeness went as unnoticed as water on a duck's back, "Hullo," the Doctor held out his hand to be shook, "I'm the Doctor, good to meet you."

The tall man came in without response. The Doctor felt there might be something disagreeable about this man, but he believed in giving people the benefit of a doubt. "Thu-This is muh-my, uh, brother, Cuh-Cain."

"The Doctor..." sneered Cain, sitting down to tea, "What is he doing here? What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"He, uh, wuh-wants to ah-ask some queh-questions," said Abel, nervously pouring out.

"And what exactly have you told him?" Cain motioned flippantly to the Doctor, who was now finding his own seat.

"Nuh-Nothing, brother," Abel was trying his hardest not to shake while serving the tea, but spilled a little, despite his effort. The hairs on the back of the Doctor's neck rose slightly at the murderous look in Cain's blood-red eyes.

* * *

Rose was becoming more and more unnerved. This was not the London she knew; first of all, there were no people on the streets. Everything was completely quiet, no birds sang, no cars motored by, it was as though she was alone in the world. She'd left the flat, but there seemed to be no hope of finding it again; she'd lost Powell Estate completely. Street signs made absolutely no sense. Rose would stop and read them, but they didn't seem to be in English, or the writing would move and change the second she glanced away. Frankly, it was giving her a bit of a headache, so she wandered, looking for anything that presented itself as familiar.

Suddenly, things became all too familiar. Rose walked right by the church where she and the Doctor had sheltered what seemed like forever ago. The place gave her a shiver, but she kept walking, thankful for some sort of familiarity. It wasn't long after that she stumbled upon the TARDIS.

There it stood, just like she'd remembered it, as out of place as ever. She ran up to it and wanted to throw her arms around it. Instead, she threw open the doors, hoping more than anything that the Doctor would be waiting inside. But it was empty. Not just empty, but as hollow as a plain old police box.

Dark clouds loomed over head, a thunderclap sounded, announcing the downpour just before it arrived. Rose stood for a moment in the driving rain, shocked. She was soaked in the matter of a moment and seeing no other options, stepped inside the police box. She felt betrayed. For a moment, the box had been a life raft in the midst of a stormy sea. Now Rose just felt as though she was drowning. It was impossible to tell if there was something wrong with the world around her, or if the matter was with, frighteningly, her mind. She was lost in the city where she'd spent her whole life and it felt as though locations, street signs, even what was happening around her was slipping through her fingers. It felt like she was losing her mind.

Suddenly, it felt as though her head might explode. Intense pain manifested behind her right eye and spread until she was clutching at herself, unable to do anything but crumple to the floor of the box, wrything in agony.

* * *

White. White lights. Everything, white. And her mum's face, no make-up. She was worried, looking down, tears in her eyes. The pain was incredible, enough to blur her vision, or her mind, there was no way to think about which. "Rose?" said her mother, fear in her voice, "Rose, sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

The lights were moving overhead, quickly. A strange, male voice spoke, "She seems to be in a lot of pain, Mrs. Tyler, we're going to administer another sedative..."

Her mother nodded and turned her attention back to her daughter, "Rose, you'll be just fine, they're fixing you up right now. Just hold on, hold on for me, Rose..."

* * *

"Rose?" Someone shook her as the pain began to fade, "Rose, you all right?"

She looked up, forcing herself to focus, despite her fear. Big, pointed nose, big ears, close-cropped hair... the smell of an old leather jacket. Rose knew who he was, but it didn't make sense. Crouching over her was the Doctor, but not the Doctor as he had been when she'd last seen him, the Doctor as he'd been before. The first Doctor she'd met. "Doctor?"

He nodded with satisfaction, "'Bout time you come 'round. Very nearly had me worried."

She let him help her up, still reeling from what must have been the worst migraine of her life. "What are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again..."

"Never see me again?" The Doctor nodded to the empty police box, "You didn't happen to hit your head?"

"I dunno. Feel like my head's all over the place. Like I'm losing my marbles. 'S painful..."

The Doctor looked into her eyes, scrutinizing, evaluating, "They all seem to be there t' me," he ruffled her hair and grinned. "Nothing that can't be taken care of by a little adventure. Doctor's orders."

"Is it really you?" she asked, not sure if she should believe her good fortune.

Without another word, she hugged him tight. Reunited with the Doctor even under these frightening circumstances, Rose couldn't help but feel better, like things were suddenly under control. Though they still made very little sense. She nodded and he smiled the old smile, "Fantastic. Off we go then, off to find the _real_ TARDIS." The rain, which had lightened gradually soon stopped completely. It was amazing how quickly the sky cleared up.

"So," she said, "where do you think we start looking?"

He shrugged, "Who knows? Anyway, old girl's around here somewhere; I can feel it. Can't you?" And Rose realized, she could. She'd felt it since the flat, maybe even before. The energy, the life of the TARDIS, was calling out to her.

The Doctor held out his hand and she took it. Just as though they were out for a mid-day stroll, they went in search of adventure itself.

* * *

The sight of Abel's fallen body was horrifying. The Doctor had been able to do nothing but watch as Cain had murdered his brother in cold blood. Now he was sitting at the table, calmly getting himself a biscuit as though nothing had happened. "Need not worry about him," said Cain, "your tea's going to cool."

The Doctor was kneeling over the dead brother, mouth still agape in shock. There was very little blood and Abel didn't even seem surprised about the whole thing. Feeling his temper raise dangerously, the Doctor looked up at Cain, "How... how could...?!" The words wouldn't even come. What sort of monster had been invited for family tea?

Cain sighed, "Get a hold of yourself."

"Get a hold of myself? Get a hold of myself?! You just..."

"Murdered my _own_ brother? Yes I did, because he is Abel, I am Cain. Some days I question how far we are from truly being solely form and function..." he motioned off-handedly to the body of his brother, "Give him a few moments and he'll start to come around again, as he always does..."

Sure enough, signs of life began to show themselves in Abel. He moaned a little bit, shifted a little bit. The Doctor stared at this miraculous recovery, utterly amazed. "I've seen regeneration," he said, "but I've never seen anything like this; he was _really_ dead!"

Cain nodded slightly impatiently, "Yes, I know. One lump or two?"

"But...?"

The murderous brother was not the most patient biblical figure. "Let me spell it out for you; I am the father of all murderers, he is the father of all victims. We are what we do, it's a fairly simple, insanely complex situation. Now, I'm under the impression that you are looking for information, otherwise there would be no reason for you to be here, aside from perhaps returning my clumsy brother's lost pet...?"

The Doctor's eyes fell across the recovering Abel. Goldy stood beside, watching over him. He was not dead and the Doctor was coming under the impression that it probably wasn't possible for him to die perminantly, but it still struck a nerve that he was in the presence of an aspect of the very nature of humans that he could not stand. Killing was never ok, even if it wasn't at all for forever, but Rose was slipping away moment by moment.

"Thank you for bringing Goldy home, by the way," Abel was recovering more quickly than the Doctor had expected; he could speak, though the sound of it was unpleasant, and was trying to pull himself up, using the nearby chair. The Doctor helped him into it, where he just sat, like a dead thing. "It's okay," said Abel, smiling weakly, "blood, as you might have noticed, is a bit thicker than water."

The Doctor took a moment to calm himself before speaking again. "I'm looking for my friend, Rose. Have you seen her?"

Cain shook his head, "No. The only thing that I should tell you is to seek out the Dream King. Take the matter up with _him_."

"He lives," said Abel with a voice that sounded like sawdust and dankness, "in the great castle in the center of the Dreaming. He's expecting you."

Despite the fact that this odd family made his skin crawl, the Doctor thanked Abel warmly for his hospitality and managed to hold his tongue when it came to his older brother. Without a word to Cain, the Doctor began to make his leave. "Before you go," said Cain, not even bothering to stand, "just between us murderers: no man can truly escape the sins of his past."


End file.
